Operation Orion - Kevin Dockery [74]
“Okay.” The officer continued to study the schematic, thinking aloud. “So there are only two points of contact between the remaining Eluoi and our Team. Here, where they tried to get down to the lower level, and here, where Sanchez and Marannis are blocking the door.”
“And probably here, too, LT,” Baxter pointed out, indicated the area where the sensors had been blacked out. “If this is the garage, or motor pool, or whatever, it’s open to the elements outside, but we can gain access through a door on our side, and the Eluoi can enter it through this other door over here.”
“What about air locks? Is there any kind of locking mechanism you might be able to use from here to secure the hatches? Seal the bastards up?”
“Let me have a look, sir,” Baxter said.
Jackson paced impatiently around the control room while the technically gifted SEALS manipulated the computer and security controls. The officer barely could contain his fury. He wanted to get after the enemy with every weapon, every man, at his disposal. But he knew that a frontal assault against the Eluoi troops would be costly, potentially disastrous. In room-to-room fighting, the defender always had a significant advantage, at least once the possibility of surprise had been removed.
Five minutes later Baxter looked up. “It might be possible to secure the hatches, sir. I’d like to give it a test.”
“Sure.” Jackson wanted to seize the possibility. “What do you want to do?”
The electrician’s mate pointed at a compartment just below the control center. “This is a storeroom. We cleared it on our way up here.” He moved a cursor until it stopped over the image of that room’s entry door. The cursor switched to a hollow square and began to flash. “I suggest we have someone down below keep an eye on this hatch and report what happens in the next few seconds.”
“Chief Harris,” Jackson called, and received an immediate reply. “Are you in the anteroom down at the bottom of the stairs?”
“Affirmative, sir.”
“Is the door to that storeroom open? Keep an eye on it. Baxter’s going to try some remote-control wizardry.”
“Aye, aye, skipper.”
The LT nodded to the SEALS at the computer console, and Baxter flipped a switch. Immediately the hollow flashing square on the schematic screen became a solid red block. At the same time, Harris’s voice came over the communicator.
“Holy shit, sir! I’m glad I didn’t have my fingers on the frame. The hatch slammed shut like my girlfriend Rosie’s legs on prom night!”
“Can you open it, Chief?”
“Negative, sir. It’s locked tighter than a drum.”
“Okay, good.” Jackson studied the screen, looking over his man’s shoulder as Baxter manipulated the cursor once again. “Nice work, Fritz. Can you do the same with the hatch leading down into the lower level and the one where Sanchez and Marannis are guarding the door?”
Within a minute the SEALS mate had secured both passages. “It looks like there’s three of the bastards on the downside of the basement hatch, sir,” he pointed out. “But we’ve cut them off from the rest of their men.”
“Okay.” Next Jackson contacted the coxswain on the lower level. “Grafty? You’ve got three hostiles at the far end of your corridor. They can’t get away. Just hold on where you are and we’ll send you some backup to clean ’em out of there.”
“Aye, aye, sir, I copy,” the coxswain replied.
“LT?” Baxter asked, pointing to a third junction that appeared on the screen next to the blacked-out compartment leading to the outside. “I think I can secure the door on the far side of the motor pool. That will keep them from getting out of the installation or coming after us through the garage.”
“Make it so,” Jackson replied, forming a plan while he watched the SEALS slam the last hatch shut. With the exception of the three Eluoi on the lower level and an unknown number in the garage, all of the surviving hostiles were secured behind sealed air locks.
“What about the air supply?